


Good Morning, Rudyard

by stripes_and_dots_etc



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Angst, Morning After, Rudyard Funn has Low Self-Esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripes_and_dots_etc/pseuds/stripes_and_dots_etc
Summary: Rudyard is not panicking. He just has no idea how he's supposed to deal with this!What is he supposed to do with a sleeping Chapman?





	Good Morning, Rudyard

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like an hour last night, so forgive me if it's not great. 
> 
> The beginning of this actually came from a longer piece I plan on neither finishing or publishing. I liked it too much to abandon it so I put it in another story. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

Rudyard was watching Chapman sleep.

 

That sound creepier than it was.

 

They were sharing a bed together and Rudyard was watching him sleep. See? Much less creepy.

 

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom around the curtains. It was annoyingly idyllic. But, it was also early enough that Chapman should have been awake. He was an early morning person because he was _the worst_. Instead, he slept and Rudyard watched.

 

Chapman looked older in sleep. As if without his blinding smile and charming personality, flaws were allowed visibility. He had laugh lines and crows feet and faint bags under his eyes. There was a _pimple_ forming at his hairline!  

 

Rudyard’s hand stopped halfway to Chapman’s face. 

 

What was he doing? 

 

His fingers curled into a fist and dropped onto his pillow. He couldn’t do things like _touch_ Chapman. That was madness!

 

He kicked the covers off himself and rolled out of bed. 

 

Tried to roll out of bed.

 

His foot got caught in the covers and he more or less… fell out of bed. He hit the ground with a low groan, then popped his head up over the edge of the bed to glare at Chapman.

 

Chapman remained sleeping. 

 

Well. Good. This wasn’t the type of arrangement where they said good morning to each other. What would Rudyard even do if Chapman woke up? What excuse could he offer for why he was still in Chapman’s bed? 

 

_“I was doing research.”_

 

_“Research? What were you researching, Rudyard?”_

 

_“Whether you’re more or less irritating first thing in the morning. It’s about the same, honestly, but it’s still a higher level of irritating than the average person.”_

 

_“Rudyard.”_

 

No, Chapman was right. That was a terrible excuse. Rudyard frowned as he turned his attention to finding his trousers.

 

_“It’s a plot to ruin Chapman’s.”_

 

_“How does you still being here ruin Chapman’s?”_

 

_“Well… obviously, people seeing me here is bad for business. What would people think about you?”_

 

_“Then why are you trying to sneak out?”_

 

Damn! Why did Chapman have to be so good at finding flaws in Rudyard’s plans? Fine.

 

_“I’m trying to make Antigone jealous.”_

 

_“Isn’t she dating Georgie?”_

 

_“Not jealous of you! I’m trying to make her jealous of your bed! It’s much more comfortable than hers.”_

 

_“How would you know?”_

 

_“I take naps in her bed.”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

_“Well, I’m not going to unmake my bed for a daytime nap. Honestly.”_

 

_“You could sleep on top of the covers.”_

 

Chapman was so annoying. He thought he was so clever, when really he was just annoying. He didn’t have all the answers, just good luck. 

 

Rudyard glanced at Chapman’s sleeping form and paused in the act of picking up his shirt. His heart constricted at the sight, which was absurd. Why should his heart care about a sleeping Chapman? It meant nothing. Nothing!

 

Last night had been a bizarre and out-of-character anomaly. A panic driven moment prompted by their not dying in that ravine. Which hadn’t been Rudyard’s fault, thank you very much Antigone. The whole… bedroom… thing, that may have been Rudyard’s fault.

 

But Chapman had been there! They’d been high on adrenaline and maybe some mutual loathing. Or possibly relief that no one died. Arguing had led to yelling and yelling had led to kissing and kissing had led to… more. 

 

And Rudyard didn’t know what to _do_. 

 

It hadn’t meant anything. He knew it hadn’t. Chapman would never want to admit that he and Rudyard had… that anything had happened. Which was fine! It’s not like Rudyard wanted everyone knowing he’d been in his arch nemesis’s bed! It was just…

 

How was he supposed to _face_ Chapman after this? Rudyard didn’t do things like this! He didn’t do… well, Georgie probably had lots of names for what he and Chapman had done. She wasn’t around though and Rudyard would not tell her about this just to get a name for it. 

 

All that mattered was that _it_ had happened and Rudyard had to live with that. He had to live with the fact that Chapman had kissed him. That Chapman had giggled against his skin and called him an arse because Rudyard had complained about Chapman’s abs. But honestly what did a funeral director need with abs like that?

 

That Chapman gasped when his ear was nibbled on. That he’d flung his arm over Rudyard’s waist afterwards with a groan and a grumbled ‘stop fidgeting, Rudyard, we’ll get up shortly’. That Rudyard had spent the night curled up with Chapman and he genuinely didn’t know how he was supposed to sleep without that now. 

 

Rudyard pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Panic bubbled inside his chest because _oh god_ he didn’t loathe Chapman. He the exact opposite of loathed Chapman! 

 

What was he supposed to do now? _Leave_ and continue to fail to run him out of Piffling Vale? No. He’d have to leave Piffling Vale himself. Antigone would take care of _Funn Funeral’s_ and she had Georgie now. They’d be fine. Rudyard would leave, change his name, and start a pottery shop somewhere else.

 

He had to learn how to do pottery, but otherwise it was a solid plan. Then Chapman would never have to know that Rudyard didn’t loathe him. It was perfect.

 

“Rudyard?”

 

He startled at the sound of his name then stared at Chapman. He'd sat up in bed, squinting at Rudyard with his hair sticking up. How was _pottery_ supposed to compete with _this_? 

 

“Come back to bed,” said Chapman groggily.

 

Rudyard swallowed hard. “Back to bed?”

 

“It’s too early to try to destroy _Chapman’s_. Do it later. Sleep now.” Chapman flicked the covers as though to emphasis his point. 

 

Rudyard dropped his shirt and crossed the room. He put one knee on the bed, but hesitated because none of this made sense. “You want to sleep?”

 

“It was a long night,” said Chapman with a slow grin. “Might be a long morning if you’d get back here.”

 

Rudyard climbed onto the bed and directly on top of Chapman, who grunted then chuckled at the invasion of his personal space. Rudyard buried his face in Chapman’s neck and said, “I don’t loathe you, Chapman.”

 

Chapman chuckled as he ran a hand through Rudyard’s hair. “Yeah, I got that when you told me you loved me last night.”

 

A moment of sheer heart-stopping panic washed over Rudyard. “I thought that was a dream,” he whispered.

 

“It wasn’t,” announced Chapman with disgusting cheerfulness. “You said you loved me and I said I loved you too. Then you crowed that there were no take backs. You said I was stuck with you forever now and there was nothing I could do about it.”

 

Chapman nudged Rudyard until he was on his back with Chapman braced over him. He grinned, kissed Rudyard's cheek, and said, “You also told me that your love didn’t mean you wouldn’t crush _Chapman’s_.” He kissed Rudyard’s jaw. “Do you think you can detail your plan today?” He kissed his way down Rudyard’s neck.

 

“Um,” said Rudyard.

 

Later that morning, when Rudyard woke up again, Chapman was watching him sleep. 


End file.
